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The McIntire Conspiracy
"It's better to be loved by the righteous few than to be liked by a lukewarm many."
- Noble
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Saturday, September 27, 2003
Muddy River Roundup
Great time in Portsmouth last night (note: that's the first time those words have ever been used together). The place was small but filled with people there to see a comedy show. Max Pelke got 'em going, but then Tony Moschetto brought the magic of the Swedish bum and the show was really off and running. I love following Tony...he gets them opened up and ready for anything. I had a strong set, lots of crowdwork. Sold a few CDs.
Stayed until well past closing, and had, no lie, fried pickles, which, as it turns out, were delicious and spicy. Drank some free beer, hung out with some very cool people (Moschetto, new comic Leslie Downs, and a philosopy student/writer/bartender who was a hoot and a half). Just enough debauchery to make me feel young and relevent, but nowhere near enough to make me do anything untoward for a married guy. Listened to the Folk Singer bit on the house system and smoked some Kentucky Cheroots while I talked Steinbeck and the writers journey with the philosopher and Tony spun his web of seduction (note: as of this writing, I have no idea how successfully spun it was). Woke up with a mouth that tastes like I felched the garbage monster in Star Wars.
Also, I don't know if it was the pickles or the cigar, but I had some crazily erotic dreams about my wife alternately making out with a redhead chick and me last night. What kind of weird phallic calculus is that? How do a pickle and a cigar combine into hot girl/girl action? By all rights, I should have dreamed some sort of Jeff Stryker motif.
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